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“F-Farrel?” I stuttered.
“Yes, Grace,” he took a bold step closer. “You see, we have the same father, Connor... I know you’ve met him. So, what does that make us?”
The realization that I was face to face with my own flesh and blood, a connection I had never known existed, was a disorienting moment amid the intense encounter. “Y-you’re my...”
“Half-brother,” he smirked. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, little sister.”
Chapter 10 - Igor
Igor, did you send these men?
Those were her last words before the call cut off. My fingers curled around the steering wheel until my skin turned paler and my blue veins bulged. I stepped on the gas; anger ravished my body, and I couldn’t drive fast enough. I pushed the powerful engine to the limit and the car matched the urgency in my heart. The ugly feeling that Grace was in danger made me want to rip someone’s throat out. We couldn’t let up, every second counted. Adrenaline shot through my veins and my senses sharpened.
I raced down the winding highway, tires squealing as I pushed the car to its limits. Alexei and my men followed close on my heels and matched my speed. At that moment, I was glad that I had put together a convoy of four cars before I left the house to search for Grace.
Each heartbeat triggered a pulse of anger as I headed for the GPS location that marked her last known whereabouts. At that moment, I didn’t care about anything else—the business, the envelope ... nothing mattered. All I cared about was reaching her in time and getting her to safety.
Her location hadn’t changed since the call, which meant that these men—whoever they were—had stopped her. I would find them and kill every one of those bastards if they harmed as much as a hair on her head.
My mind raced as fast as I had been driving. Thoughts of Grace surfaced: Boy, could she be feisty and stubborn, and that mischievous look in her eyes. It made me smile. She brought so much excitement and life into my world. I didn’t want to let her go, ever. She belonged to me; she was mine.
I glanced at the red digits displayed on the dashboard and gripped the steering wheel even tighter. Time seemed to stretch out and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead, but I kept my composure.
As we approached the location, my heart pounded against my ribcage. The thought that she was in the hands of another man lit a fire inside me. I had to protect her, and I wanted her back. And fast.
The moment I spotted my car in an alley, my stomach churned, and my heart skipped a beat. It was parked haphazardly, as if she had been forced to stop; and four other cars around it didn’t belong to the Bratva. But I recognized them. Connor Farrel’s gang.
Without thinking, I jumped out of the car and ran to the scene. From behind, I heard my men running too, stamping their heavy boots on the asphalt.
“Fucking Irish,” I growled, covering the distance between my fist and Aiden’s cheek.
“I'm going to fuck you up!”
I swung my arm, but his men quickly formed a shield around him and pushed me back.
This infuriated Alexei. He and the rest of my men rushed in front of me and charged at them, their fists flying in the air and their eyes gleaming with determination. I didn’t stay out of the fight. Another of Aiden’s men lunged at me from the side. I dodged his attack and gave him a powerful roundhouse kick that knocked him to the ground.
The clash of fists and bodies echoed in the alley, a mixture of grunts, foul blows, and crunching cheekbones. In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of Grace. Unlike usual, she was trembling like a frightened kitten, clasping her hands together and looking anxious.
Aiden joined the fight too, and I was his main target. I tried to keep my eyes on Grace, and when I saw tears streaming down her cheeks, I became even more enraged, and I grabbed him and punched him hard in the face.
The fight raged on, and one by one Aiden’s men fell back as their resolve waned. The alley slowly quietened as the enemy ran back to take cover behind their cars. Aiden moaned and groaned, with a wicked gleam in his eye as he clutched his torso, hunched over and gasping for breath.
My eyes studied him intently as I mirrored his bent-over stance. I had received a hard punch to the side, and it hurt like a bitch.
“You think you’re so damn high and mighty, don't you?” he snarled, his voice bouncing off the walls. A predatory smile played around his lips. “Who would have thought you had a soft spot for my little sister? Have I found your weakness, Igor?”
Before I could say a word, he snatched Grace, his grip on her wrist tight, and the fear in her eyes deepened. I knew I had to act fast.
“No!”, she screamed and thrashed around, crying. “Let me go! Let me fucking go!”
Blind with rage, I lunged forward without reckoning or thinking. I grabbed her arm and yanked her from his grip, while I fisted the collar of his shirt and threw him hard against the wall.
“The only reason I’m not putting a bullet through your head right now is because I'm not a fucking idiot like you,” I snarled.
I could not kill him now in the presence of his men and Grace. It would rain bullets from both sides and could injure her or worse, she could be killed. I stared hard at the grinning scumbag; I'd just have to kill him another time.
“Fucking funny, the Varkov Bratva, protecting my dumb little sister,” his sarcasm glinting in his eyes.
